Without You
by fmapreshwab
Summary: Steve had never been good at feelings.  He was great at the fighting, the guns, the action, but it would take losing someone important for Steve to learn to let people in.  Rated K for now, but that may change for language in later chapters.
1. Rude Awakenings

A/N: So, this little fic came about during my attempts to understand the labyrinth of emotional crippledom that is Steve McGarrett. What would happen if he lost someone important? How would he cope? Let's find out!

As to the disclaim-y stuff, the characters don't belong to me, but oh…if they did…. … … … … … … Okay, I'm back. They belong to the CBS people, so…don't sue me.

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><p>Steve McGarrett arrived in his office at his usual early hour, glad not to have had a late call out the night before. It had been a rough one, made no less so by the fact that the one person he would normally turn to during the rough times had taken up the new and unsettling hobby of call screening. Steve couldn't remember the last time he'd had to try twice to get Danny on the line, let alone the eight times he had tried last night. And the six more he'd tried early this morning.<p>

After mashing the buttons on the office coffee machine with just enough restraint to avoid breaking it entirely and waiting impatiently for something he could put in his mug, Steve threw himself down into his office chair, glad no one was as yet around to see his tantrum-like outburst. He glared at his cell, willing Danny to return his calls with some reasonable explanation as to his silence. Preferably one that involved either bullets or a coma.

Steve tried not to think of the empty couch in his childhood home, tried not to wonder why Danny hadn't come home last night. The man was an adult, and what he did was his business, but that was no reason to disappear without notice.

At first he'd thought Danny was out on a date with the museum assistant he'd been seeing so much of recently. But Danny would have told him about that, would have let him know that he'd be out for the night, would have teased him not to worry. Steve tried to hate the way Danny treated him like they were the old married couple their friends constantly compared them to. Steve tried to hate it the same way he tried not to worry about Danny's absence: unsuccessfully.

Steve tried once again to turn the worry into something else without acknowledging it. This wasn't like Danny. It was inconsiderate, to be sure, but that wasn't what had Steve so…mad, he decided, settling for simplest terms. Mad didn't really cover it, but Steve had never been too skilled at pinning down exact feelings. He didn't want to characterize the ball in his gut as hurt, even if Danny was his best friend. More to the point, Steve was Danny's boss. Danny took his calls because it was his job, if for no other reason, and at the moment, Danny's silence was bordering insubordination. Steve grinned despite himself as he imagined the diatribe Danny would have ready if he were to be written up on such charges.

Steve shook his head as he logged on to his office computer, trying to reassure himself that Danny knew better than to purposefully ignore his calls. Something must have happened, something that Danny would prioritize above his professional responsibilities. The face of the only thing in the world Danny put above his work popped into Steve's head, and suddenly his anger (anger, he tried to convince himself, not hurt or disappointment or bitterness) turned right back into worry.

What if something had happened to Grace? It wasn't out of the question, especially with Stan in the picture again. Steve tried not to remember the gun-laden carjacking Rachel and Grace had been subjected to on Stan's behalf not so long ago. No, he decided, shaking his head, if it was something like that, something that Danny would need his skills as a cop to solve, he would have been the one calling Steve.

What if Grace were hurt or sick? Danny would have gone immediately to the hospital to see her, leaving everything behind. That explanation almost made sense, if it weren't for the fact that Danny would have been notified of this on the same phone Steve had been trying to reach. It would have been in his hand, and he would have taken it with him for updates on the way.

Steve's fingers fell a bit too heavily on his keyboard, and the rat-tat-tat brought him back to reality. He had been, it seemed as he stared at his computer monitor, on auto-pilot. His email account sat open and ready to be perused in a window on his computer, apparently having been logged into only a moment before. He wasn't sure whether he found that impressive or disturbing, but shrugged it off as he focused on the screen.

Scanning the contents of his inbox, some few interoffice emails to which he had been tagged onto the recipient list as a "department head" within the law enforcement community, Steve's eyes caught on the second message down, just below the governor's daily address, a largely useless email full of bureaucratic updates automatically sent at five each morning. The message was marked , Danny's professional email account, and had the mark of an urgent dispatch. The subject line read simply '5-0'.

Steve spent longer than he would admit to anyone aloud staring at his inbox, trying to determine the email's significance, wondering what it could mean, before it occurred to him that the best way to find out would be to actually open it.

Steve picked up his almost forgotten coffee mug as he clicked open the email, trying to pretend he hadn't let it go cold thinking about Danny. He nearly felt his heart stop as he read the message, then read it again, convinced he must have something wrong. This must be the stroke Danny was always warning him about, messing with his eyes. He must be imagining things up to keep the anger burning in his heart. There was no possible way what he was reading could be real.

_Commander Steve McGarrett:_

_My time in Hawaii, as a member of your task force, has been difficult. This place is so different from what I'm used to, things work so differently here, that it's felt like a different country. It hasn't helped that the only people I've spent any time around were the kind of people who wouldn't know real law enforcement if it read them their Miranda rights. Or to have the kind of guy who takes liberties with human rights as a boss._

_And as my boss, I thought you were the one to whom I should submit my letter of resignation._

_I spent a long time trying to make it work, but I can't do this anymore. The truth is I don't belong here, I never belonged here. I'm going back home, back to my family and my real life._

_Don't take it personally._

_-Detective Williams_

Steve read the email again and again, trying to pin down what, exactly was wrong with it, besides the obvious. The words were wrong, obviously, but the tone was right. It sounded like Danny, it held the problems he'd been dealing with for months. But something was missing, something important. It was too antiseptic, too clean, too neat. It was the kind of professional that Danny wanted people to believe that he was, the kind of professional that wore a tie to the beach, but it lacked the personality that Danny brought to every moment of the lives of those around him. It was wrong.

Steve continued to read it as he heard Chin and Kono enter the building and part ways to walk into their individual offices. He continued to read it as he heard the click of Lori's heels pass his office. He continued to read it as he heard his office door open.

"Hey, Boss, settle a bet," Chin began, only to stop dead. "Steve? Brah, you okay? You in there? Steve, is…is everything…." He trailed off, unsure how to continue or if Steve was even hearing him in whatever world he had gone off to.

Finishing the letter for what must have been the five or six hundredth time, Steve looked up at the look of concern on Chin's face. He had come only half way into the room, but now he took a step forward, allowing the door to close behind him. "Get everybody together. We have a case."

Chin nodded slowly, the concern still marked clearly in his eyes. "Okay, yeah, sure." He shook his head, trying to pass the strange moment by. "But first, settle something for me and Kono. Danny hasn't come in yet." Chin tried not to notice the twitch in Steve's jaw when he mentioned the detective's name. _They must have had another fight_, he decided. "Now, I think must be sick or something, but Kono says he's working by somebody else's alarm. He's still surfing the couch at your place, right? So what's the deal?"

Steve stood, keeping his anger in check as he refused to even glance down at his computer. He kept his voice low and slow, but he couldn't quite keep it free of the tone he tried only to use in times of war. "Get everybody together, now. Something's happened to Danny."

Chin was out the door before Steve could so much as breathe.

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><p>Is Danny really in trouble? Is Steve imagining danger to avoid his problems? Tune in and find out!<p>

More to come, hopefully soon. Feedback is always appreciated, but never compulsory.


	2. Arguments Against an Abduction

A/N: I'm kind of loving writing this, and I appreciate the response I've gotten. So, this little fic came about during my attempts to understand the labyrinth of emotional crippledom that is Steve McGarrett. What would happen if he lost someone important? How would he cope? We're going to find out! I don't own the characters or the established universe; please don't sue me.

Thank you all for not thinking that I'm just bad at writing Danny. I was kind of worried that it might come across wrong in just the first chapter, but you guys gave me the benefit of the doubt. Your reward is a swift update.

Also, important information that somehow escaped the first chapter's note. This story is set during season two of the show, not around any specific episode, but pretty much any time that Danny spent "surfing the couch" at Steve's place (thank you, Chin).

Last part, promise. To be safe, the rating for this chapter has advanced to K+ due to some language from the Steve.

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><p>As Steve McGarrett walked down the hall from his office, he stopped his mind from following any other path than the one he had chosen: something was wrong, someone else had sent that email, Danny needed their help. Steve had become skilled over the years at banishing any thoughts that were counterproductive or dangerous, and any thoughts that were not directed at helping Danny were immediately dismissed or repressed.<p>

Steve pretended to himself that he hadn't waited for Chin to leave his office so he could punch the support beam that ran between two of the glass walls that formed his office. He almost convinced himself that his first reaction to Danny's email, after the initial shock had worn off, hadn't been to run through the past few days, past few weeks, wondering what he had done to chase Danny away. But most importantly, Steve erased from his mind the half hour or so of this morning that he had spent believing that Danny might actually be gone. "Danny wouldn't do this to me," had become Steve's mantra, "not like this." He said it until it was all he could believe anymore.

Steve stalked out into the main room of the Five-0 Headquarters, the remnants of his team assembling around him. He used the touch pad in the center of the room to open the email again. "I want this traced." He looked over the screen at Kono. "Authenticate the account signature, trace it back to the originating IP address, whatever it takes. I want to know what computer terminal this thing came from."

Steve turned next to Lori. "Run a trace on Danny's cell phone, his recent credit card activity, full background. Find out where he is and how long he's been there. Chin," he called, turning to find the man in question staring at the monitor. Steve stopped when he noticed the attention Chin was giving the email.

Chin spoke without looking at Steve, turning his back on the commander. "Boss, can I talk to you a sec?" He walked down the hall without waiting for a response.

Steve glanced around and, seeing that both the girls were well underway, walked down the hall after his friend. "What's the problem, Chin?"

Steve had spent a long time learning human behaviors and body language, and he knew from how Chin was standing that he wasn't to like what the other man was about to say. Chin was looking down at his feet with one hand behind his neck. As he spoke, he wouldn't meet Steve's eyes. Never a good sign.

"Um, look, Steve…. Are you okay? I mean, you and Danny were close, we all know that…."

Steve might have been mad if he hadn't known this would be coming. Check that; Steve probably would have been furious if he hadn't expected this from one or all of them. He knew Danny better than anyone, they knew that, and they were going to have to listen to him. Steve looked Chin in the eye and, after a deep sigh, began. "Chin, listen to me. I know—," he started, only to stop and walk back down the hall.

Chin followed him after a moment, and once he entered the main room, Steve addressed the team. "Listen up, guys. I know what you must be thinking. I know you've all read the email by now, and maybe you're thinking this is just some weird overreaction of mine. Well, believe me, Danny and I are close, but it's not like that. I know this letter sounds a lot like Danny, but something about it is…wrong. I don't think he sent it, and if he did, it was under duress. I think Danny's in trouble, and I think he needs our help. If we can't find anything to support that, if we find Danny and it turns out I'm wrong, then it's over. But if I'm right, we may be his only shot. He's been there for all of us, and we all owe him enough at least to try."

_Except for maybe Lori_, Steve thought, looking from the corner of his eye at the agent in question. She hadn't been around long enough to have her life saved by the angry, sarcastic Jersey cop, but she would. _Consider it an advance payment on a debt you'll owe soon enough._

Chin looked up at him hesitantly. Steve could see all across his face that he had something he almost didn't want to say, but felt he needed to bring up.

Steve looked pointedly at him, but his tone remained aimed at the group. "If anybody has any questions or problems with this; well, now's the time to speak up."

Chin took a deep breath, then jumped in. "What makes you think that Danny didn't write this email?" He looked over at the email again, frowning. "Aside from all the really insulting parts, I mean."

Steve answered without missing a beat. "He never mentions Grace." Steve turned to look at the monitor, the email having been blown up so he could read it half way across the building. "When was the last time any of you heard Danny talk about anything without mentioning her? He doesn't say he was able to get Rachel to agree to come back with him, he doesn't mention any new custody arrangement…. Danny would never just walk away from her. Or from us. Danny thinks of us as his family, and there's no way in hell we just get an email to let us know he's leaving. He cares about us. We're not just coworkers to him, we're his _ohana_, and you don't walk away from that. Danny wouldn't, and I won't either!" Steve wished like all hell that he had been able to control his voice, but the overall effect of his shouted declaration couldn't be argued with.

Steve turned to Kono. "Where are we on that email trace?" he asked, trying not to bark.

Kono stood stock still for an instant, apparently still caught up in the speech of a moment before, but after a beat spun like a dancer to the computer terminal behind her. "The account trace came back empty. It looks like this was sent from Danny's HPD account. There was no sign of dummying or a false signature."

Steve plowed through the negative news, trying not to falter. "IP address?"

Kono brought a map up on the main monitor. "I traced it back to the neighborhood the email originated from," she said, blowing up the section of the map which held Steve's neighborhood.

Steve felt the eyes on him as everyone in the room wondered who would say it first. Steve cut through the silence, giving them the details they would need. "The email came in at around 1 o'clock this morning." Steve looked down at the touch screen computer terminal displaying his neighborhood. He could see his house from here. "Danny didn't come home last night. I couldn't get him to answer his phone from about 9 o'clock on. Where are we on the phone trace, Lori?"

Lori looked up in defeat. "Nowhere. I can't get a signal from his phone; it must be shut off."

"Like it would be on an airplane?" Chin asked, eyebrows raised.

Steve moved on before anyone could answer. "Credit card?"

Lori shook her head. "No activity since dinner last night at an Italian restaurant."

Chin frowned at Kono. "Looks like I owe you five bucks, cuz."

Steve put his mental training to use as Lori and Chin spoke, and tried not to think of the small Italian restaurant they had eaten at the night before. He tried not to hear the rush of the ocean in his ears as the doors that led out to the beach were opened for the evening. He tried not to see Danny's breadstick walrus face. He tried not to hear their laughter blending together in their fantastic harmony, and the irately cleared throats at the tables around them. But he tried hardest of all not to see the taillights of Danny's Camaro pulling out of the parking lot. He tried and he failed.

Steve and Danny had been leaving for the same destination, and they had very nearly left together, but they had arrived separately and Steve had insisted on getting his truck home. If something had happened to Danny, that was when it happened, and if they didn't find him, didn't bring him back in one piece, Steve couldn't see himself ever forgiving himself.

Chin looked up, brow furrowed. "Wait, how would Danny get airline tickets without using his credit card? And Steve," he asked, turning, "isn't all of Danny's stuff at your place? If he was leaving town, wouldn't he have to come back to get his things?"

"Actually, most of his stuff's in storage; I didn't have room for all of it. All he keeps at my place are a couple of set of clothes at a time." Steve sighed, but knew he had to tell them. "And you don't owe Kono anything." He felt the eyes again, but barreled on. "Danny and I left the restaurant separately. He left before me at about eight thirty. When I made it back to the house before him, I tried calling. That's was the first call he didn't answer."

Chin was the one to ask. "The first of how many?"

It would be pointless to lie; the next step would be to pull Danny's phone records. "Fourteen, one about every forty five minutes until I got to the office at 7 this morning."

Chin whistled how impressed he was, either with the regularity or the quantity, Steve wasn't sure.

Steve couldn't stand the silence. He was grasping at straws and he knew it, but he gave the assignments anyway. "Lori, check every outgoing flight from last night through the next twenty four hours. Kono, pull Danny's phone records. If something changed, if he talked to someone from Jersey or made any arrangements last night, I want to know. Chin, you're with me."

Chin looked over at him, eyes not quite suspicious, but somewhere definitely in the neighborhood. "Where we headed, Boss?" Chin's tone was skeptical, almost asking if Steve even had a plan.

Steve dreaded the answer he knew he had to give, but not as much as he dreaded the answers he might find. He couldn't think of any scenario that ended well for his team or his friend. "My place, then we're going to see Rachel."

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><p>Dun. Dun. Dun! As we all know by now, good things never come of Rachel's involvement. But, hey, maybe we'll get to see Grace! Anyway, will the team locate Danny? Will 5-0 resort to mutiny? Is Steve crazy? Find out next time! …Or maybe a couple of next times from now….<p>

I mentioned earlier the positive response this story has gotten so far, and I really and truly want to thank all those of you making the commitment to follow the story, but special thanks go out to everyone who took the time to leave me a little feedback; you guys rule (bonus points go to Qweb for pretty much predicting Steve's whole argument in this chapter. I swear I had it finished before the review came in). Thanks for the support, hope you keep coming back for more.


	3. Crying Women and Chin's Convictions

A/N: So, this little fic came about during my attempts to understand the labyrinth of emotional crippledom that is Steve McGarrett. What would happen if he lost someone important? How would he cope? Let's find out! I own nothing.

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><p>Steve McGarrett and Chin Ho Kelley sat in Steve's truck, barreling down side streets at speeds that would have turned Danny purple. Steve hadn't looked at Chin since they had gotten back into the truck, and the ride had been passed without either breaking the silence. In his peripheral vision, Steve had seen Chin turn to him several times on the trip, opening his mouth as if he had something to say, then thinking better of it. It was just as well; Steve didn't want another blowout. The conversation at his house had been bad enough.<p>

As they pulled into Rachael's driveway (Steve refused even to think the name of the home's actual owner), Steve took a deep breath. He had known from the moment he had made the decision to come here that it wouldn't be easy.

Even now, Steve wondered if there was a way this could be done over the phone. He could probably have thought of something, but Danny had admonished him long ago on this subject, telling him that witness interviews were best done in person. "I'll make a real cop out of you, yet," Danny would have laughed if he could see Steve now, but Steve refused to let Danny's voice in his head affect him.

As they walked up the front walk, coming to the front door, Steve looked over at Chin, trying to subtly gauge his state of mind, only to find Chin looking through the corner of his eye at him. The unintended eye contact brought back for both of them the scene only twenty minutes earlier at Steve's home.

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><p>Steve was going through every possession of Danny's he could find, trying to notice something that was off, something that was missing, something that would help. It was a long time before he realized that Chin was just standing in the middle of the room, watching him. Steve straightened and turned, looking Chin in the eye. But before he could say a word, Chin was already half way into questioning his decisions.<p>

"Listen to me, Steve. If Governor Denning gets word of that email, he's going to assign us someone new without a second thought. He's not going to care why Danny didn't tell us what was going on with Grace or why he didn't pick up the ties he left at your place. You need a real reason to keep this going, and you need it _before_ people start asking the real questions." There was a challenge in his voice that would have gotten him demoted if this were still the Navy.

But then, a lot of things would be different if this were still the Navy, Steve reflected. Sometimes he could almost miss the simplicity of the life he had walked away from. "Chin, you and I know Danny—," Steve started.

"Yeah, we do," Chin interrupted, trying to get Steve to just listen for once. "And it's because we know Danny that we know something's up. But we need something better than 'We know Danny.' We need a real answer." Chin's face changed, and he was looking at Steve with that look, that look Steve hated that said his friend was looking deep into his soul. "Steve, talk to me. Why…why do you need so bad for Danny to be in trouble? Why is it so hard for you to accept that he might be gone?"

"You just, you don't understand, Chin, you don't get it." The one person who could understand why Steve needed this, the one person who would probably be trying to explain it to Steve right now, was the one person he couldn't talk to.

Danny had come closer to understanding his screwed up mind than anyone since his mother, and, whether Steve wanted to admit it or not, she barely even counted because he hadn't even been _that_ screwed up until he lost her and his life had gone to shit. Then he'd lost his father, the first time, and things had gotten worse. Danny was the last real thing he had left, and Steve didn't want to think about the kind of man he would be if he lost that, too.

"No, brah, I don't, because you won't let me." The challenge had gone from Chin's voice, and Steve started to think that maybe, just maybe, Chin was actually trying to look out for him. And all he could think was that that was supposed to be Danny's job.

Steve tried to be his own Danny for a second, tried to get inside the head of the Jersey cop and tell himself what Danny would have told him. He thought there might be something in there with the ring of an amateur diagnosis of abandonment issues, but that was all he could come up with, and it didn't have the weight Danny's words always did. He made a note to ask Danny about it if, no when, they found him.

As it was, Steve shook his head as he stormed back to the truck, Chin following silently in his wake.

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><p>Before either could spend much time thinking about how very much better that conversation could have gone, before Steve could even ring the doorbell, there was a high-pitched peal of shrieking laughter and footsteps that were just too fast.<p>

"Uncle Steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeve!" Grace shouted, running through the door like it hadn't been there to begin with and hugging Steve around the waist. After a long moment, wherein Steve felt closer to Danny than he had since last night, Grace removed her face from his stomach and looked over at Chin. "Hi, Uncle Chin!" Grace said, still attached to Steve's waist.

"Hey, little sister," Chin said, putting on an almost convincing grin.

"Grace," Steve started, "what are you doing here?"

"I live here, silly," Grace informed him with a grin that lit up all outdoors.

Chin laughed just a little at his elbow, and Steve had to admit that he had walked into that one. "Grace, I meant why are you home? It's," Steve checked his watch, "nine thirty on a Thursday."

"It's a teacher day," Grace informed him matter-of-factly. "Kids get to stay home and teachers go to school. They do…teacher things," Grace finished, brow furrowed. She shrugged and smiled again. Then Grace looked at them both, a little doubt creeping into her sunshine expression. "Is Danno with you guys?"

Steve weighed his options, and decided against crushing the little girl's spirit. "Not this time, Gracie," he told her, hunching down to eye level. "We came to see your mom."

"Oh," Grace said with a knowing look, nodding. "Danno didn't want to come, huh?"

"I bet if he knew he was going to see you, he would have come anyway," Steve told her, trying to smile. He refused to tell the little girl that Danno hadn't had a choice, that no one knew where he was, but if the time came, he would refuse to let anyone else do it. "Gracie, can you tell your mom that we're here and we need to talk to her?"

"Sure, Uncle Steve!" She didn't even turn her face away as she screamed, at the very top of her little lungs, "Mommy! Uncle Steve and Uncle Chin are here! They want to talk to you!"

Steve smiled despite the ringing in his ears. Someday, someday soon, he vowed, he would learn the right way to talk to kids. He tried to hold on to that smile as, inside the house, _she_ came down the stairs and walked to the door. Steve hadn't seen Rachael since…he didn't know how to finish the thought.

Since she had broken Danny's heart. Since she had toyed with him, only to once again fall into the arms of the person Steve was determined not to think about. Since she had taken a hammer to Danny's carefully re-pieced-together world and set him all the way back at square one. More noticeably, since the pregnancy. Steve took a perverse joy in the fact that her body hadn't adjusted well to the new pressures it was under.

Rachael looked Steve square in the eye, and Steve returned her gaze. They stood that way for a long moment, each waiting for the other to be the first to blink. Steve had tried, in the first second of her appearance in the hall, not to be angry, not to think of what she had done to Danny, not to turn on her what Danny had termed the "Scary SEAL Glare". But it was really better not having to try so hard.

As it turned out, the first one to blink was Chin. After keeping his silence a moment, Chin stepped up and almost in front of Steve to speak to Rachael. Steve kept his focus on Rachael, but paid Chin just enough attention to hear the words "speak in private" at the end of whatever he had just said. They were led into the house, and Grace was told to go play.

Before she skipped away, she turned and leaned back to look up at Steve. "Uncle Steve, wanna play Barbies?"

The smile she turned up at him was enough to loosen the ball of anger in the pit of his stomach and bring a real grin to his face. "I would like nothing better, Gracie, but I have some work stuff I have to do, stuff I have to talk to your mom about."

Grace looked at him again, the smile dropping. "Where's Danno? He always comes when you have to talk to Mommy for work stuff."

Steve tried to keep his face neutral, keep his eyes from going wide, and he almost succeeded. "Danno was busy with something else. He's out there trying to keep everybody safe, Gracie, but he told me to tell you that Danno loves you."

Grace frowned. "Something bad happened, huh? You don't know where Danno is."

"No," Steve admitted, "I don't. But I promise you, Grace, I'm going to find him. I won't let Danno get away."

"Promise?" she asked, her eyes almost completely dry.

"Promise," he told her, and she grabbed him around the waist again. She buried her face in his stomach and when she finally turned to run up the stairs, his shirt was wet. "Don't make me a liar, Danny," Steve whispered as he watched her go.

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><p>Out on the back porch, Rachael and Chin had started without him. They looked up at his entrance, Rachael with some suspicion in her eyes, but continued the conversation. Steve had planned on letting Chin take the lead anyway with her anyway, so he sat down and just listened.<p>

"I haven't really spoken with Danny since…" she floundered, at a loss for words, not wanting to give voice to all the horrible things Steve could see she knew she had done. "Since Grace and I got back to the island," she finished lamely, as if everyone there didn't already know what had happened between them. "Aside from arranging pick-ups and drop-offs by voicemail, Danny and I haven't said two words to each other in weeks. What is this all about?"

Chin began to fidget just slightly, not something anyone who hadn't known him as long as Steve had would notice, but enough for Steve to jump in. "We have reason to believe something may have happened to Danny. No one has seen him since last night, he didn't report in for work this morning, his phone is off and he didn't go home last night."

"How do you know he didn't go…where is he even staying now? The hotel he was in was shut down with…oh, some sort of mold, wasn't it?"

"You don't know?" Chin asked slowly.

"Of course I don't know!" Rachael burst, almost keeping the tears in. "I'm just the horrid ex-wife not deserving of a real bloody phone conversation! I don't know where he is, I don't know what he's doing, I have no idea if he was planning a bloody trip to New Jersey!"

"So he didn't mention anything to you?" Steve asked, seizing on the only information he considered relevant in her diatribe.

"No, I already told him," she said, gesturing almost frantically at Chin. "He never said a word to me, not that he would."

"According to the terms of your custody agreement, you have to tell each other if you're planning a trip off the island, right? Anywhere other than this island, you have to notify the other person."

Rachael sniffled. "That's right. Why exactly do you—."

Steve turned to Chin, not even slightly interested in what Rachael had been about to say. "Proof enough for you, Chin? Let's go, I want to know what Kono and Lori found." He stood without another word, leaving Rachael on her porch, muttering something about "bloody hormones".

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><p>The further I get into this story, the less sure I am that Danny's going to be okay. Where is he? What's happened that would keep him from his team, his family? Have Kono and Lori found the missing piece that will answer our questions? Tune in next time!<p>

Yeah, I'll admit to not caring much for Rachael, but I also think that's something a lot of us are guilty of. Also, word to the wise, never use a song title as a story title. Supertramp was bad enough, but I must have watched that clip from RENT about 900 times now, and I'm only on chapter 3. Thanks for your continued outpouring of support, and probably expect another update soon. I usually space them out a little more, but this story kind of won't let me.


	4. Steve's Vindication, Danny's Desperation

A/N: So, this little fic came about during my attempts to understand the labyrinth of emotional crippledom that is Steve McGarrett. What would happen if he lost someone important? How would he cope? At this point, I'm assuming you keep coming back to find out!

I don't own these guys. You know it, I know it, the CBS people know it.

Also, I'm going to go ahead and call this chapter K+, not for language, but for some pretty dark implications.

* * *

><p>Steve let Chin dial the phone only because he was trying to keep at least some of his focus on the road. After several other drivers (and pedestrians) had shouted strings of curses at him, blurred by his speed, Steve had begun to take the hint and tried now to focus on his driving.<p>

Chin had offered to take the wheel as they had left the house, but Steve couldn't take him up on it. Danny never would have even tried it, Steve knew. Danny called it his control issue, but the truth was it went deeper than that. At times of emergency, times of stress, times of action, Steve's training kicked in and he instinctively sought out a position of power. The training had been intended for situations where that position would be the high ground or the 50 caliber, but the driver's seat had worked so many times in the past that Steve didn't even think about it anymore.

To be honest, it had led to some awkward situations with people other than Danny. Steve shook the memories away as he listened to the phone ring, the audio being pumped through his truck's speakers automatically by the Bluetooth. "Chin?" Kono started hopefully.

"Kono, we're on our way back to HQ; what do we have?" Steve interrupted.

She hesitated, and Steve barely avoided barking her name into his dashboard to focus her. "I've been able to determine that the email definitely came from Danny's laptop."

She had said the words with an air of defeat, but Steve's mind was already churning out a new scenario. "Danny had his laptop with him in the Camaro the last time I saw him! If someone grabbed him from the car, they'd have his computer, too. Kono, have HPD put out an APB on Danny's car, see what comes up. Lori, where are we on those flight records?"

Steve heard Lori sigh into the receiver and pictured her slumped over the touch pad in defeat. "Nowhere. Only one Williams booked on any flight off the island in the next week, and unless Danny arranges his travel plans under the name Michelle and flies all his trips to New Jersey via Ft. Worth, I got nothing."

Steve didn't know whether or not to consider that good news. On the one hand, he was getting closer and closer to being proven right, and very soon he would no longer receive the looks of pity and worry he'd been getting from his team. He would no longer be the nut who opened up investigations based on nothing and kept them going through sheer force of will. He would once again be the commander whose instincts were trusted implicitly

On the other hand, the more evidence they found that Danny hadn't gone back to Jersey, the more evidence they found to prove Steve's theory, that something had happened to Danny, that he was in trouble. Steve remembered the open phone line, transmitting only silence as the team waited for his decision. "Danny didn't say anything about leaving the island to Rachael, and if he leaves without notifying her, it's a breach of their custody arrangement. If he left without saying anything, he would be putting his rights with Grace on the line. He wouldn't do that. Something happened."

Steve stared at his own reflection in the rearview mirror for a moment, weighing his fear against his pride. "We're back in five," Steve announced, severing the connection between the phones and trying not to hit the shave ice cart on the sidewalk.

* * *

><p>Steve ran down the hall of the headquarters, bursting into the main room where Kono and Lori still stood. Their faces were grim, and Steve could almost have sworn that Kono's eyes were red. <em>About damn time<em>, was all he could think.

Once Chin had finally entered the room, Steve began to speak with all the speed and urgency their dire situation called for. "Danny's in trouble. Right now, he needs us to bring our A game no matter how bad the situation gets. We owe him," he reminded his team, looking at each of them in turn, watching their eyes as the determination overrode the fear for their friend's safety. "We need to find him, and we need to do it now. So what do we have?" His team looked at him, but said nothing. "Come on, people, what do we have?"

Chin was the first to speak up. "We have a time frame."

"And a general area," Lori continued. "We could search the neighborhood, door to door, but that might take..." She trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentence with "too long" and admit that they were on limited time.

"We know somebody has Danny's computer," Kono added, breaking the momentary silence.

Steve snapped his fingers. "Kono, Danny's computer has a webcam installed, right?"

Kono nodded, her face beginning to brighten. "Yeah. I mean, it's a long shot, and it'll only work if the computer is on and nobody's looking too closely…."

"Get on it," Steve told her, but she was already pulling up files and manipulating the software they would need. Steve marveled, not for the first time or the last, at how in sync his team could be when the situation called for it.

"What's she doing?" Chin asked warily, glancing down on the touch pad where Kono was working.

Lori snapped her fingers, catching on. "I've heard about this. You can send a signal to a laptop and activate the camera, like a remote, one-way viewing station."

"Exactly," Kono told her. "A message will pop up on the computer that the camera is active, but if no one looks to closely..." She trailed off, her attention focused on her work. She pressed her finger into the touch sensitive surface of the table and watched as windows and screens flew open in a rapid succession until an image began to form in the center of the monitor.

And just like that, they had a front row seat to the worst scene any of them could have imagined.

The laptop had been left open. Steve realized he should have been glad for the fact, but it was difficult with what he was now looking at. Steve could see Danny sitting on a chair in the middle of a large, open room. Strike that; he wasn't sitting in the chair, he'd been tied to it. His forehead had been opened, and blood was trailing down the side of his face in a thin stream, or had been at some point. The blood looked dry now, but Steve couldn't be sure at this distance.

His wrists, the skin around the area where the rope connected Danny to the chair, were red and raw, which told Steve that Danny had fought. He had expected no less. There was blood on Danny's shirt that the head wound didn't account for, but after a quick check, Steve could find no other obvious injuries. Steve's mind went instantly and ridiculously to Danny's bad knee and the fact that the stress of the situation could have Danny retrieving his cane from under the couch at Steve's house where it currently resided.

The greatest shock of all, Steve thought, was Danny's disheveled appearance. Steve had known that the situation wouldn't be pretty, and on some level he knew that Danny wouldn't have been given the choice to straighten his tie once he had been bound to the chair, but the half-unbuttoned, rumpled shirt, the loose tie, the stained pants and wild hair, somehow this communicated Danny's distress far more effectively that the head wound.

But none of this, it seemed, was enough to slow Danny down. As usual, he was speaking. "Listen, buddy, it doesn't have to be this way. Things are only going to get bad for you if you let them. I got a Mac truck full of big, scary friends who won't stop coming until they get to me. Add that to the fact that it's a cop you're holding onto, and you got yourself a whole mess of problems." Even in this situation, at his unseen captor's mercy, Danny's voice came from a place of strength, of power. He might as well have been standing in the dim interrogation room he usually would have been giving his speeches in.

Danny grinned, continuing. "Lucky for you, I got stuck being good cop this month, so I'll make you a deal. You let me go now, I walk out the door, I find my friends and put a stop to whatever Army-style infiltration of this place they have planned, and we call this whole thing a funny little accident. You say you made a mistake, I won't say boo. It's done, it's over with, nobody has to go to jail with his jaw wired shut and his arm out of socket. But you try to keep me here much longer, and you will find a whole world of hurt the likes of which you could never conceive raining down on your head. And that'll be on you."

There was a harsh laugh from near the computer, and a shadow appeared on the right side of the monitor. Whoever was in the room with Danny was standing just in front of the computer, facing the bound detective. "That is a very kind offer," said a deep voice that Steve didn't recognize. "But, you see Detective, I put quite a bit of work into finding you, and quite a bit more into getting you here. You don't think I brought you here without a plan, do you? I know about your friends, and right now they think you're on a plane back to New Jersey. I really must thank you for keeping your email account open on your laptop, though, Detective; I had thought that accessing it would take some work."

Danny's face fell slightly, but he tried to keep the bravado up, tried to hide the fear in his eyes. Steve shook his head. _Well, that explains that._ Steve wanted to ask if anyone recognized the voice, wanted to start a trace on the signal, voice print analysis, something, but he didn't have to look to see that his team was just as transfixed by the scene unfolding before them as he was. The shadow had moved, and the further it got from the computer, the more it started to look like a large man. His raspy, gravelly voice came low and slow as he said, "I've already told you, Detective, no one's coming for you. It's just you and me. Which means I get to take my time." Steve saw the unmistakable glint of a knife in the man's hand. "And I do so love taking my time."

* * *

><p>NO! Oh, no. Oh, Danny, what have you gotten yourself into? I guess you'll have to tune in next time to find out.<p>

As to the commentators fearing for Danny's life, I can't guarantee you'll like where we end up, but I can tell you you'll enjoy the ride.


	5. The Silent Killer

A/N: So, this little fic came about during my attempts to understand the labyrinth of emotional crippledom that is Steve McGarrett. What would happen if he lost someone important? How would he cope? I just love trying to find out!

I don't own these guys. You know it, I know it, the CBS people know it. I really, _reeeally_ wish I did, though.

* * *

><p>Steve couldn't let this happen. He watched, frozen as the man advanced slowly on Danny, cradling the knife in one hand. "This is it, Detective. This is the knife. You wouldn't believe what I had to go through to get it back; I'm sure there are some people in your old department who would just die to have it back." The man chuckled again. "Come, now, Detective, laugh with me. It's the least you could do."<p>

The man stepped away from Danny and took a few swipes through the air, slashing and stabbing at invisible victims. Danny's eyes never left the knife. Steve watched as the fear hidden in Danny's expression became recognition, and the recognition burned to horror. "F-Frank? Frank Coburn?"

The man bowed low, giving the knife an unnecessary flourish. "I am honored to be remembered, Detective. It was the knife, wasn't it? I knew I would need the knife."

Steve snapped his fingers once and his team sprung into action. He could practically feel the work being done around him. Chin would pull up any records they had on Frank Coburn, Lori would run the name through the law enforcement database, Kono would check for any local connections. But Steve watched as the man swiped the air around Danny with the large, stylized knife.

"Oh, how I would love to take you apart, piece by piece, with my friend here," the man, Frank, told him in his low, rasping voice. He shook his head. "But I'm afraid you're not his type. But rest assured, Detective. I'm sure I can think of something." After a few additional practice swipes with the large knife, the man turned and left the room.

Danny waited until the door slammed shut. Then he began to pull at the ropes, testing them. He looked around, glanced up at the thin windows along the top of the wall. _Basement,_ Steve thought, trying to get everything he could from the picture. He tried to absorb the scene around him, but all he could make himself focus on was the fact that Danny hadn't started to panic. _Good man._ Steve heard an urgent beeping sound just before the picture went dark. The computer had run out of battery.

Steve turned from the monitor to see his team looking at him with varying looks of shock, horror, and fear. Steve knew they were looking to him to take charge, to lead them to a happy ending, but he wasn't sure he knew how to do that.

"Have we got anything new?" Steve asked, his voice betraying his doubt.

Chin led off with the background he had been able to compile. "Frank Coburn, New Jersey's very own serial rapist murderer. They called him the Silent Killer because he cut out his victim's vocal cords before torturing and killing them."

Lori picked up when Chin grew silent. "According to his record, Danny was the officer on duty when he was brought in. They found him crying over a knife in his apartment in Hoboken. The report says he only became violent once they tried to take the knife from him. He called it his friend, talked about it like it was a person." Lori made a noise deep in her throat. "When they searched the apartment, they found a box full of vocal chords." Lori paused, then looked up at Steve. "He escaped a prisoner transport guard six days ago."

Kono shook her head. "I can't find any trace of him on the island. If he's renting a place, he's good. I'm checking island records against a list of aliases in his case file, but nothing so far."

The three of them looked to Steve for guidance, a decision, a plan, anything. And Steve was starting to think he might have one. "So, we know Danny was taken somewhere between the restaurant and my house," Steve started, resisting the urge to point out that he had known this all along and that he had been trying to get them to see it. "Kono, pull up the map."

He watched as his neighborhood once again appeared on their large computer screen. One dot appeared over his home, and another over the restaurant. A blue line connected the two dots, but something wasn't right. "No, that's wrong. Danny doesn't take Kame'ke Avenue after dinner; the speed bumps spill his drink. He would've gone here, down Komoko Street." Steve ignored the look Chin shot him as a second line connected the two dots. "Now show me the area covered by the IP address you backtraced the email from." A purple circle shadowed about a quarter of Steve's neighborhood, overlapping the blue line.

"Steve," Kono said, practically shouting to get his attention. "HPD just got back to us on the APB you had me send out for Danny's car. They found Danny's car…." She consulted her map, then a third, yellow dot popped up inside the purple circle of their search radius. "Here, parked on the street in front of this house."

Steve indicated the six houses in range of where Danny's car had been found. "Pull up the building specs for these houses. He's in a basement."

The plans were accessed, and instantly three of the houses had red X's placed over them. A fourth was quickly discarded as well, leaving only two to be searched. Examining the two houses, Steve thought about the angle of the sun in the window of the basement they had seen. "Chin, you and I will take this house," he said, indicating the small tan home set slightly further to the west. "Kono, you and Lori take this one," he told them, pointing to the blue house to the southeast of the other. "Let's move."

* * *

><p>Steve and Chin sat once again in the truck, burning rubber down the street. Steve could feel his heart thundering in his chest, and he knew as he hit the gas and gunned through another waning yellow light that he was heading toward something important. He hoped it was Danny.<p>

Chin cleared his throat. "Steve, listen. I know that I…I've been tough on you through this. I just…I didn't want you getting too invested in one theory without considering the alternatives. I wanted you to think before you acted. I just…."

Steve glanced over at him. "You were being Danny. It's okay, Chin, you were just trying to cover everybody. We need somebody like that around here, and with Danny out of action, you were just picking up the slack. Just…don't make a habit of it."

Chin nodded, frowning. "You know, I've never seen partners as close as you and Danny. Even when I was still with the force, you trusted your partner, but that didn't make you friends, you know? Your partner was somebody you maybe shared a beer with at the end of a rough shift. You didn't spend weekends together or meet each other's kids or go to them when you needed a place to crash…."

"What are you trying to say, Chin?"

"I'm saying, you and Danny…you're good together." The rest of the short ride passed in a more comfortable silence than the two had known all day.

* * *

><p>When no one answered the door, Steve and Chin burst into the small home, weapons drawn. Clearing the first floor and finding a sickening lack of anything resembling evidence of habitation, the pair moved through room after room, until they located the door which would lead them to the basement.<p>

Steve held a single finger to his lips and put his ear against the door. There was a muffled voice coming from the other side, but Steve was sure he had heard the word "detective". That was all the reason he needed.

Giving Chin the signal to hang back, Steve kicked the door in and entered the room in less than ten seconds. The man, Frank, was standing near him, the knife gone, but with a gun in his hand. In one motion, Steve entered the room, grabbed the wrist of the hand in which the man held his gun, swung it down and away, and used his free hand to punch the man squarely in the face again and again, until he crumpled to the floor in a reasonably small pool of blood.

"Danny!" Steve called, running down the steps set into the side of the wall. "Danny!" Frank had been standing at the landing at the top of the stairs, whether coming or going Steve couldn't tell.

"Steve?"

Steve's heart almost stopped as he heard the voice, small and imploring. "Danny!" he called again, hitting the floor and finding himself in the middle of a strangely familiar scene. Danny sat facing him, still bound to the chair in which they had seen him only a short time before.

Before he started to speak, Steve could have sworn that something had broken inside Danny, but before he could say anything, the old Danny face was back in its rightful place, and the Jersey cop was screaming at him like nothing had happened.

Danny looked up at the landing, clearly visible from his vantage, and shook his head. His eyes were squinted and his head was tilted to one side. "Okay, Steve, my friend, my partner, oh bane of my existence, in my ongoing mission to turn you into some semblance of a real cop, let me give you some pointers, yeah? A little Cop 101. You enter, assess the situation, then offer the guy a chance to surrender, and you do all this _before_ you BEAT HIM INTO UNCONSCIOUSNESS!" Danny's speech might have had some greater effect were he not still tied to the chair. Every frantic hand gesture which normally accompanied these rants became an elbow wiggle or shoulder slump. "Oh, oh, I think I saw his leg twitch! Why don't you go stand on his throat for a while, you animal! What the hell is wrong with you, huh?"

At this point, Steve had him untied and Danny stood, Steve's hands on his shoulders. "You, Danno, are what the hell is wrong with me. Jesus, Danny, how about a "thanks for saving my life"?"

"How about a "Five oh"? Two words, we all avoid law suits, criminal charges, all the things they talk about in those emails you never read and the paperwork you never do!"

"You had me worried," Steve said, his voice low and his eyes intense, and his grip was just the wrong side of comforting.

Danny threw his hands in the air, but stayed nailed under Steve's grasp. "Oh, oh, I had him worried. It's okay, folks, he beat the guy half to death without announcing that he was law enforcement because I had him worried," Danny said, turning to their imagined audience. "Sorry, Mom, I didn't mean to worry you. And?"

"And I missed you!" Steve threw his arms around Danny and squeezed just a little too tight.

"That's right, babe, bring it in." Danny returned the hug the best he could as the feeling began to return to his hands. He patted Steve on the back, but apparently the SEALS hadn't taught him to take a hint. "Let it out," Danny whispered into Steve's shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere."

They stood there for a long time, just the two of them, before Danny heard steps on the stair. On his tiptoes, he just managed to see over Steve's shoulder as Chin poked his head in, then turned to leave. The door was left open, and Danny heard voices, Chin's and maybe Kono's, then the steps receded. It seemed they would have some time. For once.

* * *

><p>After a while, Steve slowly released his grip on Danny and took a step back, allowing the smaller man a little breathing room. "Danny, I need to say something. After…everything, I just…I have to tell you…."<p>

"Is this going to be one of those "now that I'm sure you're okay, I'm going to break some big, horrible news" moments? Because I could take a rain check on that."

"No, Danny just…." Steve took a deep breath. "Look, Danno, I'm screwed up. My life, my family…. My dad, I mean, fine, I get it now, but I was just a kid and he was pushing me away, and my sister took off at full speed the first chance she got. I've never let anybody know how messed up I am, because the people who were supposed to love me ran out, and why wouldn't anybody else? I spent my life doing everything I could to never need anybody. Now…I don't know how to tell you how much you matter to me, how important you are, how much I need you without…I don't know."

"Without maybe being afraid that I'll take off at the drop of a hat, leaving only a snarky email in my wake?" Danny finished helpfully.

"Yeah," Steve grinned despite the pain in his eyes. "Something like that."

Danny nodded. "Well, you listen here and you listen good. You came after me, and that tells me that you know better, so I don't want to hear you say anything even remotely like that ever again. Do you understand me? Don't look at me like that. I need to know that you know that I'm not the walking away type. If I'm in this, I'm in it for the long haul."

Steve looked at Danny, and for what could have been the first time in their relationship, Danny saw something more than stone in his eyes. Steve dropped his walls for a moment, long enough to ask, "Are you in this?"

Danny waited for a moment, thinking about everything that question implied, realizing how far they had come since the first time he had punched the big idiot, knowing what it meant to have Steve asking him this now. "You bet your ass, babe. Now you get over here and you walk me out of this godforsaken pit because I still can't feel my feet."

"Do you one better, Danno," Steve said with a mischievous grin. He walked over to Danny, knelt down, grabbed Danny around the waist and threw the man over his shoulder. He took the stairs two at a time, Danny yelling the whole way. "I said walk me, not carry me. I have legs, you know, they aren't broken or anything. Put me down, you Neanderthal! This is not how grown men treat each other!" Danny yelled and kicked and screamed, but in the end all it accomplished was making Chin, Kono and Lori laugh that much louder.

* * *

><p>Danny's back! He's alive! But is he okay? Tune in next time to find out!<p>

Still loving every comment, every review. Thank you guys for giving me the kind of feedback that makes me want to be a better writer.


	6. Shades of Normal

A/N: So, this little fic came about during my attempts to understand the labyrinth of emotional crippledom that is Steve McGarrett. What would happen if he lost someone important? How would he cope? I know you want to find out, so let's get to it!

I don't own these guys. You know it, I know it, the CBS people know it.

* * *

><p>As they exited the house, Danny still held over Steve's shoulder and their new prisoner being carried between Lori and Kono, Chin called that he would catch a ride back to the office with Kono, Lori, and the unconscious prisoner. Steve grinned over at Kono's small car, picturing the four of them trying fit, an image made especially amusing by the prisoner's current state of awareness. Or lack thereof.<p>

Steve told the others that had and Danny would be right behind them, smiling through the lie as he waved them off and back to work. Before they left, though, Chin got one last word in. "Danny seems pretty okay," Steve heard Chin tell Kono.

Kono glanced back over her shoulder to where Steve, still holding Danny over one shoulder. He was barely able to make out her response, but her eyes would have said it all either way. "Appearances aren't everything, cuz."

Steve knew how true her words were, and it was why he had been in such a hurry to send the others away. Soon, too soon, Danny's mask would fall, the familiar attitude would evaporate, and Danny would be the scared, angry, helpless man he had tried not to let his captor see. Steve knew his team, knew they would want to be here for Danny as badly as he himself did, but he also knew that Danny would never forgive himself for breaking down in front of an audience.

After the others had left, after Danny had finally stopped squirming, after he had let the scene from the basement settle into his mind, Steve set Danny down on the lawn. Keeping one arm slung around Danny's shoulders, he led the man to the curb, where they sat and looked up at the sky. Well, Danny looked at the sky. Steve just looked at Danny, watching him drink in his freedom, accept that it was real, that he was safe. That look of amazed realization was one that Steve had seen many times before, but never had he felt so glad to be the reason for it. Danny rose, thinking he was ready to go back to the office, back to work, back to his life. Steve knew better.

Steve and Danny sat in the truck for a long time before they went anywhere. For all his bluster, all his bravado, all his Jersey cop suavity, Steve had seen the fear in Danny's eyes on the camera feed. He knew what it was like, had felt the fear, the charge, and his first time, he hadn't fared nearly as well as Danny. Steve wanted to tell Danny how proud he was, but he also knew that Danny wasn't ready to hear it.

Steve knew that Danny would need time to make sense of everything, to try to move past what had happened to him, but he also knew these things were easier when someone you knew you could trust stayed nearby. Steve had never had anyone stay with him after one of these situations, but he wanted to be there for Danny.

Steve watched as Danny stared out the window into the sun. It would take a while for his brain to reset, Steve knew, and he would need something constant, something familiar to be there when his mind finally switched back on. Steve moved to start the truck, then thought better of it, and reached over and turned Danny's head to face him. He tried not to be shocked by how empty, how lifeless Danny's eyes were as they looked up at him, but he managed only barely to avoid checking his friend's pulse.

Steve knew enough about these situations to know that there were stages to them. First, there would come the denial. "I…I would have gotten out. I would have found a way. I wasn't going to let him take me. Away from Grace, away from you, the team, my family." Danny's voice was small and lost, the easy, masking smile gone from his face. "I mean, I don't think he was ever really going to do it. He was big talk, but he was just…full of hot air. Right?"

Danny was looking at him like he expected an answer, so Steve nodded. "Right. He didn't know what he was messing with if he thought you were going to go without a fight." Steve tried to smile, but knew immediately that somehow he'd said the wrong thing.

"I could have died in there!" And there was the hurt, the rage, the indignation. There was the anger. Danny's face was red, and his eyes were hard. "He had this knife, this huge knife, and he…he said you weren't coming, that you thought I had left you, which I thought was crazy, but then you didn't come…for so long. Where the hell were you?"

Now they were to blame. Steve wanted nothing more than to tell him the real story, how he had had to convince everyone that something was wrong before they would really try to look for Danny. But he couldn't do that, not to his team, their family. They had just been trying to do their jobs. "I was looking for you. The whole time."

"The whole time?"

"Ever since dinner. I called you, waited up for you; we tracked you phone, your email, your computer, your credit cards; we talked to Rachael; we did everything we could think of."

"Rachael? _You_ talked to Rachael? Huh. I almost wish I could have been there for that." Danny almost smiled. Then the look of panicked fear returned. "Oh, oh no, Rachael! Is it still Thursday?" Steve nodded. "Today was Grace's stupid teacher school thing! Did she see you? Does she know I was…oh, god, I was…."

Steve put a hand on Danny's arm, trying to bring his focus back, trying to keep him from panicking. "Grace is fine. She knew something was wrong, but she's okay. She told me I had better go and find you."

"I…I have to call her. My phone," Danny started, grabbing at his pants pocket. "Where is my phone? I had it…god, what am I doing?"

"Danny, Danny, Danny, listen. You're in no state to call her yet. You need some time. You need to let this be over before you try to move on."

Danny gave Steve one of his very favorite Jersey looks, the "are you nuts?" "What the hell does that mean, let it be over? I don't have time for any of your Zen bullshit right now, Steve!"

Steve shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He hadn't wanted to talk about this, not ever, but Danny needed to hear it. "Look, Danno, I've been where you are. I know you don't want to hear that right now, I know you just want it to be done, but it's not. It won't be over until you can accept that it happened. Right now, you're mad and you're scared and you just want your normal life back. Don't argue with me, I can see it. I know that look, Danny. So this is what's going to happen. You are going to come with me back to the office. You're going to sit with me in the conference room until you're ready to tell me everything that happened, every detail. Thinking about it as something that already happened, something you're talking about after the fact, will give you distance. After that, then you can start to move forward. After all that, we'll go and get your car and find your phone and have our lives. Until then, you don't leave my side. I need to know that you're okay, Danno."

And that was when Steve knew that something really was wrong, because Danny sat back in his seat without another word and just let the rest of the day happen. There was no arguing, no poking holes, no denial or skepticism or dispute. Danny just sat in the seat of Steve's truck, shaking just a little.

Steve started the car and drove slower than he had since he was sixteen, just learning the pedals. He might even have been below the speed limit. When the silence became too much, Steve thought he would cheer Danny up a little by bringing up his favorite topic of conversation. "So, when I talked to Grace, she just knew something was wrong. I told her you were working, but she didn't believe me. You two have some kind of weird telepathy or something?"

"No," Danny shot back petulantly. "What did you say to her?"

"Just that you were out trying to keep people safe and that you were busy with work stuff. Oh, and I told her that you had told me to tell her you loved her."

"What words did you use, specifically?" Danny asked, his voice now more interested than angry.

"I told her 'Danno loves you'." Steve shrugged as he drove.

"Well, that's where you went wrong. Only Danno gets to say that." Danny's tone was barely even defensive. Steve knew he'd get the old Danny back eventually.

Steve smiled. "So, what, you're going third person on me now? Is that where your head is?"

Danny grinned up at his partner, seeing through Steve's ploy while still appreciating, still needing, the gesture of normalcy enough to play along. "My head? Let's talk about your head, super Steve, which is so far up your ass, you can smell last night's breadsticks."

* * *

><p>Aw. Stay tuned to watch these two lovable goofballs try to make sense of things, next time.<p>

I have to say, it really gets me right here (*gestures to heart*) how many of you are truly excited to read the next segment of my work. It's a great feeling, and I love all of you.


	7. Looking Back

A/N: So, this little fic came about during my attempts to understand the labyrinth of emotional crippledom that is Steve McGarrett. What would happen if he lost someone important? How would he cope? Well, I guess we found out. He refuses reality until reality bends itself around his will. Which is actually the coolest coping mechanism ever.

I don't own these guys. You know it, I know it, the CBS people know it.

Rated T for Teen (apparently Danny gets all cursey when he panics).

* * *

><p>Steve looked at Danny across the large table. He had told himself that once he saw the man, he would try to figure out (or ask Danny) why it had been that he couldn't believe anything other than the scenario which thankfully had turned out to be true: Danny had been in trouble, and everything else was a lie. Now he wondered if he really needed to know why he did what he did, so long as the results were always this good.<p>

Steve wanted nothing more than to believe that nothing like this could ever happen again, and so it would be pointless to know why he had reacted the way he did. But he couldn't believe that, and he couldn't let himself pass up the opportunity to know more about why he did the things he did. He wasn't in the Navy anymore, he reminded himself, and it was past time he learned to operate in the real world. That meant feelings, and understanding, and people, and all the other things he had joined the military to avoid. Maybe now he was ready to stop running from himself.

More than anything, Steve needed to know why he did the things he did, if only to prepare himself for next time. Because in Steve's world, there was no such thing as an isolated incident, a singular occurrence. If something happened once, it could and probably would happen again. Because criminals were stupid and largely unoriginal. Because cops could protect everyone but themselves. Because Steve had the worst luck in the world, and Danny was a close second. There would be a next time, and Steve would be ready.

"You, uh, you okay over there, ninja boy?"

Steve realized he had been staring at Danny for some time now. "Chin. When we were looking for you, at first, I was the only one who believed that anything was wrong. Everybody else was ready to write you off as a bad attitude on a plane somewhere, but I made them look for you. Chin asked me why it was so important to me that you were in trouble, and I didn't have an answer for him. All I could think was 'Danny can't be gone, he wouldn't do this to me.' Why did I…need you to be in trouble?"

"Oh, babe, that's an easy one. You gonna keep lobbing me softballs like this til my head's on straight? Cause a guy could get used to this." Danny smiled, then his voice regained its serious tone, and he sat forward, balancing his elbows on the table in front of him. "You needed me to be in trouble because you need to have someone in your life you don't think is going to jump ship when it becomes convenient. Think about it. After everything that happened…back then, now you have us, your new hodge-podge of a family. Just as you were starting to get comfortable thinking of us as the kind of people you could rely on, trust, with more than just your life, you get locked up and Chin walks out in your hour of need because HPD is offering him a shiny new badge. And don't you think for even one second that I have let him forget about that, or that I ever will. Next up at bat is Kono, who we all thought turned to the darkside when she was out playing her hand at Dirty Cops, something I'm trying so hard right now to not point out that Chin kept from all of us. You need me because I'm all that's left."

"What about Lori?"

"Not even in the running. You haven't let her get close enough yet to qualify. Besides, in your head she's probably some spy for Denning."

"What?"

"Well, you didn't pick her the way you did the rest of us, you were never happy about the addition to the team, and, let's be honest here, you're never going to trust another governor of Hawaii again so long as you live after…what happened."

Steve couldn't help smiling at Danny's assessment, both of Lori and himself. He found both to be ridiculous, but not entirely untrue. Then he remembered why they were really there, sitting in the quiet, open conference room, alone. "Danny, this has to happen. I can wait until you're ready, or I can drag it out of you now. Think of it as a debriefing or a bull session or therapy or—."

"How about I think of it as a conversation with my friend. Who right now is trying desperately not to let me see how worried about me he is."

Steve would never get used to how well Danny knew him, not ever. Every insight was a surprise, but a pleasant one. He laughed. "Whatever gets you through this, Danno."

Danny shot him an indulgent look. "Yeah, sure, gets _me_ through this, cause it's _my_ issues that need so much working through," he muttered with a grin. "Well," he started, his face becoming serious, "I guess the story starts last night, after dinner."

* * *

><p>Danny sat in his car, smiling and singing along just a little to the tune in his head. He drove at a very reasonable speed, he told himself, toward the neighborhood without the speed bumps. Eventually, he had told himself long ago, he would learn the names of the streets in Steve's neighborhood, if only so he could more effectively complain to the city planning office about how ridiculous it was to have speed bumps in a residential neighborhood, especially one so close to restaurants. As he glanced down at the go-cup he had harangued the already annoyed waiter into bringing him, he realized that today would not be that day. He shrugged to himself.<p>

Adding a little drum line to his humming by beating out a rhythm with his thumbs against the steering wheel, Danny allowed his mind to wander the way he often did when he was on auto-pilot. It had been just long enough since he started staying at Steve's that he recognized the streets necessary to get there, and he smiled to himself as he thought of the implications of that knowledge.

Danny had come to Hawaii over a year ago, but until recently he had avoided putting down roots. After everything that had happened with Rachael, as terrible as it all had been, Danny had…woken up, somehow. He had started to see the world, the people around him as something…something worth sticking around for. And now he was looking for a home.

Danny grinned as he thought of the couch in Steve's living room which everyday hurt his back a little less. It wasn't exactly the place he had thought he had been searching for, but nothing in his life now was what he had thought it would be at this point in his life, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing in every single case. Danny realized he had actually been happy these past few months. Not less miserable, not adjusted, not even conditionally content, but happy. _Things are shaping up, Danny boy_, he told himself. _All you gotta do is let them._

Rounding another corner, Danny narrowed his eyes as his brain switched over into what he thought of as "cop mode". There was an older car pulled off to the side of the road, its hazard lights blinking steadily. This was enough to put Danny on alert, and he pulled his car over to the side of the road. Something about the situation seemed wrong, set off a warning in Danny's head, told him to be careful. Opting for his gun over his phone, he left the car, looking around for anyone who could be the owner of the vehicle.

What he saw next, though, was just enough to override any warning of personal danger his brain could come up with. There was a man lying in the street behind the car. He had a tire iron next to him on the road, and his shirt was covered in blood. _Carjacking gone wrong?_ Danny guessed as he rushed over to the victim's side.

Dropping his gun, Danny crouched down to check the man's pulse. It seemed strong enough, so Danny moved on to checking for the wallet that would identify the man. Thinking that he should have grabbed his phone, he patted the man down. He would need to call an ambulance once he was sure the man wasn't in any immediate danger.

The more Danny worked around the man, the more the blood came away on his shirt. Something about that seemed wrong, more than just the fact that it was ruining his shirt. Blood…blood would have dried. Blood wouldn't still be this slick. Danny shifted his gaze up just in time to see the man's cloudy, manic eyes snap open. What he didn't see was the tire iron in the man's hand being swung toward his head.

* * *

><p>As the world blurred and danced around him, Danny tried to focus his eyes on something, anything. But once the room resolved around him, Danny realized he had preferred the blurs. He was in a basement, he knew from the arrangement of the stairs and the windows, and he was being bound to a chair. Not the best circumstances, but definitely not the worst he'd ever woken to.<p>

Danny didn't know how long he had been out, but he did know that whoever had done this to him was about to be in a whole world of shit. He didn't know where his team was or what they were doing, but he knew they'd be here soon. He could see daylight coming through the windows, which meant it had to be morning, at least. Soon. Soon they would come for him. And he wouldn't panic.

_Easy, Danny,_ he told himself. _It's just a waiting game. All you gotta do is live through a few more hours._ The thought, while grim, was enough to keep him from losing the calm to which he was holding so firmly.

_Okay, what are we going to do until Steve and the team get here?_ he asked himself, refusing to talk to himself aloud. He knew he would need something to occupy his mind while he waited, something to keep his mind off those eyes, that manic grin, that creepy-ass…. _Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of… What the hell am I doing? I hate that song. Um…god, what's that song Grace always sings on her way home from school. Oh, god, Grace. No, can't think like that. What are we going to do this weekend, huh, monkey? You want to go to a movie? We could go to dinner at that fast food restaurant you like, the one with the funny hats and the toys in the meals. Uh…we're probably gonna end up hanging out with Uncle Steve a lot, but we love Uncle Steve. And Danno kind of lives at Uncle Steve's house right now, so…._

Danny's self-distracting thoughts were interrupted by the squeak of a door hinge, and in he walked. Danny tried to examine the face, wanted to remember it for the lineups he was sure the guy wouldn't survive to be a part of. "So…uh…you just like abducting good Samaritans, or…."

"Oh, Detective," the man said in a deep, rasping voice that didn't seem even slightly familiar despite the way he called Danny 'detective' like he knew him. "This is so much more than a simple abduction."

"Look, you need to know that if you don't let me go, there is a whole mess of you getting the crap kicked out of you coming down the street any time now."

The man shook his head, a small, creepy chuckle escaping him. "No, Detective, there will be no cavalry, no rescue. You will remain here. For as long as I choose. Your friends…they will not be coming for you."

The man spoke in calm tones, as though he didn't even care that he was ripping away Danny's last semblance of hope. This was a bad sign. If he wasn't getting some sort of sick thrill from the desperation he was beginning to inspire, then what he was saying might just be true. He was determined not to believe what the creepy bastard was telling him, but he was even more determined not to let the fear show. _Steve won't let you down_, he told himself.

Danny thought he heard a beep in the vicinity of the computer which he saw open on a table some few feet away, but he held the maniac's eye, refusing to give anything away. He didn't even blink.

The man continued to speak, brandishing an all-too-familiar knife. There were threats and there was fear, but in the end, he left without so much as touching Danny. _Showtime_, he thought. "I don't know if you guys can hear me, or if you guys are the "you guys" I think you are, but for the love of Grace, you get me out of here. You get me out of here now." Danny glanced up at the door, wanting to be sure Frank wouldn't hear him as he spoke, wouldn't walk in and catch him communicating with his team. "His name is Frank Coburn. I put him away back in Jersey. The man is a psychopath. He is a sick, sick fuck, and he will not hesitate to carve me up like a Christmas fucking ham. Get here, get here now." He took a deep breath, ready to say what he had promised himself he wouldn't even think. "Steve, if you don't…if I…if you get here, and I'm…watch after Grace."

* * *

><p>Danny stared at the table, unwilling or unable to make eye contact after his confession. "I was in the room a while longer after that. Frank came back with a gun, told me he wanted to try something, he called it an experiment for his new age. Steve, I think he was going to shoot me in the throat. Before he could…before I could…that's when you showed up. You have some kind of timing, you know that?"<p>

Steve grinned at his friend, reaching across the table and putting his hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny barely even flinched. "I would have. Looked after Grace, I mean. Like she was my own." Danny looked up. "But I'd never let anything happen to you, Danno." He patted Danny's hand. "Never."

* * *

><p>Those two…sometimes I just…they're the best. Tune in next time for more Steve and Danny amazingness.<p>

Easily my favorite chapter to write so far. I love the time I get to spend trying to get inside Danny's head.

We're getting close, but we're not there yet. Stay tuned.


	8. Questions, Answers and Shrimp Jokes

A/N: So, this little fic came about during my attempts to understand the labyrinth of emotional crippledom that is Steve McGarrett. What would happen if he lost someone important? How would he cope? Let's watch! …Or read, I guess….

I don't own these guys. You know it, I know it, the CBS people know it.

* * *

><p>Steve and Danny sat in silence. Danny had done everything that Steve asked, and now he was determined to help his friend move on, get back to his life. But Danny looked nothing but miserable. It occurred to Steve, as he was trying to think of a way to fix things, that something still didn't add up.<p>

"So this Frank guy, he had a plan to come after you."

Danny looked up, his eyes sunken and hollow. "Yeah, it looks that way. He tracked me all the way out here. I guess crazy holds a grudge. Remind me to stay on your good side." He chuckled a little at his own joke.

"But he'd only been out of prison a few days."

"Okay. Do you have a point?"

"I almost think I might," Steve said, giving Danny his best "don't interrupt" look. "The only thing I don't get of all this," Steve told him, looking over the table to Danny, "is where he got all the details in that email he sent us. You left your account logged in, I get it. It was an incredibly bad idea, but I get it. But how did he know about how you used to rant about the island, or about the way you used to talk about how I handled suspects?"

Danny looked almost sheepish for a moment. "I can answer that for you, but first you have to promise not to get mad."

"Mad? Danno, I just got you back from that psycho. How little do you think of me that you think I would let anything ruin this for me?"

Danny seemed to be almost begrudgingly convinced, and so he continued. "Okay, Mr. Not Letting Anything Ruin This, I'm gonna hold you to that." Danny took a deep breath before continuing. "So, certain parts of that email were from a draft of a letter I wrote up when I first started working with you." The initial admission over with, Danny's pace picked up considerably as he rushed to explain himself. "I had one put together for my HPD captain before that. Back then, I lived every day hoping it would be the day Rachael came to her senses and moved Grace back to Jersey. I wanted to have something ready at a moment's notice." He shrugged a little, unable to break eye contact.

Steve looked over the table at Danny, carefully keeping his face neutral. "So when you say certain parts were from this letter…."

"You know, certain parts like…."

"Parts like what, Danny?"

"Remember, you said about how great it was to have me back and nothing would ruin it? Remember from, like, eight seconds ago?"

"Ruin what, Danny? I just want to know what was in your resignation letter to me." Steve could hear his voice getting louder and harsher with every exchange, and he knew he had Danny squarely on the defensive.

But Danny looked at him in a way that stopped the argument outright. "Aren't you really just glad that you never had to find out?"

Steve stood, approaching Danny around the table with all the menace he could muster. But as Danny stood and began to shrink back, Steve grinned and threw an arm around Danny's shoulders. "Yeah, Danno, I guess I am."

Danny looked up at him with a smile. "So, dinner tonight?"

"On one condition," Steve said without looking down at his partner. "We take my car."

* * *

><p>Danny sat in the truck, looking over at Steve. He had that…look on his face, that "I'm up to something" look. Since getting into the truck, Steve had refused to tell him where they were going. Danny was worried, more than anything, that Steve was taking him to an unapproved pizza place.<p>

Danny looked around and, not for the first time, regretted his lack of familiarity with the island. It didn't help that any time he and Steve went anywhere, for work or otherwise, Steve always drove. At first it had bothered Danny, but he was getting to the point where he didn't even mind adjusting the seat and mirrors every time he drove his own car. It did still bother him a little _how much_ he had to adjust them, but he consoled himself with the knowledge that he was average-sized, and Steve was just a giant, radioactive mutant SEAL.

And then Steve did that thing that always drove Danny crazy. He smiled, barely holding back a chuckle. Like he had heard the joke Danny hadn't made. Like he could hear what Danny was thinking. Like he was in Danny's head. There were certain places Steve McGarrett didn't belong, and between Danny's ears was a big sign that said 'Restricted Air Space'. Danny settled back into his seat, trying to think of what he was doing as anything other than pouting.

The next time Danny looked out the windshield, over the impossibly high dashboard that didn't even seem to faze Steve, it was to see Kamekona's big, smiling face. Danny groaned through an unavoidable smile. "The shrimp truck?"

"The shrimp truck," Steve confirmed with a smile of his own.

"This is our big celebration spot? Why do we keep coming here?"

Steve looked over at him. "You know you'd miss it if we didn't."

"I know nothing of the kind."

"Come on, Danny, Kamekona is family. He wants to know that you're okay too."

"Did he ever know that I was not okay?"

Steve shrugged. "At this point, I think he just assumes that we're all dead until he sees us."

"That would explain the face-cracking smile he always has ready for us." Danny thought about it. He knew so few people on the island, and Kamekona was the only one he'd never seen anything but happy. True, the man sometimes tried to bend Danny over the barrel when he needed something, and in his mind's eye all Danny could see was one giant Santa suit, but he shrugged it off. Much as he hated to admit it, Kamekona was a good guy. Take away the accent and about 300 pounds, and Kamekona reminded Danny of a con artist from a Jersey back alley he'd known as a young cop.

Not that he would let Steve know any of that.

Steve was still trying to convince him as they stepped out of the truck. "Danny, you can't ask for more than this. It's in a great spot, we have a good view of the beach…."

"You know how I feel about the beach, Steven," Danny admonished playfully, grinning only once he was shielded from sight by the body of the truck.

"You're impossible, Danny! There's no pleasing you! This is one of the best spots on the island, and you're complaining because the food is weird and you hate the beach."

"Whoa, I never said anything about the food, although now that you bring it up…." Danny turned to the menu. "Wow, shrimp pizza. That…that's perfect. What else we got here, shrimp burgers, shrimp toast, not sure how that works…does that actually say _shrimp loaf_?"

Kamekona popped up from behind the ordering window. "Yeah, brah. It's like meat loaf, but I make it with shrimp instead of…meat."

"Wonderful." Danny stared at the menu.

Steve grinned. "You're thinking about that pizza, aren't you?"

"How would that even work?"

"Order it and find out." Kamekona grinned wide.

Danny shook his head and barely avoided glaring at the large man, grinning instead.

Once Steve and Danny had received their food, they sat at one of the two tables at the top of the hill and watched the sun go down. They ate mostly in silence, a few jokes and barbs traded, but at the end of the meal, looking down on the island with its lights starting to blink on all over, Danny looked up at Steve and said the only thing on his mind. "Let's go home, babe."

The Camaro could wait.

* * *

><p>Danny rolled over on the couch. The dark was all around him, and the ocean, and the silence. He missed the traffic and the headlights and the neon of New Jersey, he missed the nights he'd grown used to. More than that, he missed being able to close his eyes without seeing the large knife and empty eyes.<p>

Danny lay on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, wishing he could sleep, fearing the nightmares. He had kicked off and picked up his blanket eight times already, and he had been violently flinging himself around the small couch for hours. He had tried pacing, deep breathing, counting sheep, everything short of warm milk, but part of him didn't want to sleep. Part of him never wanted to sleep again.

Danny decided the best way to get to sleep tonight would be the way he had gotten to sleep so many other bad nights, and Steve's refrigerator might as well have had one of the neon signs Danny missed so much, being as it was the nearest bar.

* * *

><p>Steve rolled over in his bed. He knew Danny was in a bad place, and he had known that the first night would be hard, but he was close to his breaking point. First, it had been the television. Mindful of Steve's rules, it had clicked off promptly at midnight. But that was when the pacing had started. Danny was many things, but light-footed was not one of them.<p>

Between the tossing and the turning, the moaning and the groaning, and the incessant buzzing of the white noise machine that Steve himself had begged Danny to try, Steve had long ago abandoned all hope of sleep. But it wasn't just the noise that had kept Steve awake.

Steve worried about Danny, worried about how his partner would deal with the nightmares he was sure would soon plague the man. Steve worried about the hollow look that hadn't left Danny's eyes, even when he laughed and did his best to pretend that everything was normal again. He worried about tomorrow, when Danny would pick Grace up for their weekend together, but he worried about all the tomorrows after that, too. He worried about the snarky, foul-tempered attitude he had come to expect, and the look in Danny's eye that said, despite so many protests to the contrary, he was happy. He worried about the man Danny had been yesterday, and hoped he would see that man again.

Steve knew he was lying to himself, something he'd thought he would be better at after so much practice. He knew what was really keeping him awake was the image on the computer screen, the feeling of helplessness as he had watched that maniac approach Danny with that knife, the sensation of the bottom dropping out of his stomach that he felt every time he thought about it. He had spent half the night trying not to think about how familiar those feelings were, even if they were made worse by adding a picture. He had spent the night so far trying not to think about his father, about his mother, about all the people he hadn't saved.

The noises Danny made were comforting in a way; they reminded Steve of all the good things, of running in at the last possible moment, of Danny's arms around his waist, of laughing over the overpriced shrimp they'd had at Kamekona's. The good memories almost banished the ghosts. Almost.

Shaking his head, Steve rolled out of bed. If he was going to keep thinking about that bastard and what he'd almost done to Danny, to all of them, and it seemed it wasn't something he was able to stop thinking about, he would need a drink. The noises downstairs had stopped, and Steve thought if he was lucky, a big if, maybe Danny had finally fallen asleep, maybe he wouldn't wake to the sound of Steve on the stairs, and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have to get nagged about the physical and emotional implications of late night drinking.

* * *

><p>So that's that.<p>

Fair warning: There will be one more chapter. There will be a slash component. If that's not your cup of tea, that's your business, and it really has been great having you along for the ride, and I want to thank you for coming along this far.

If, however, you are interested in the next chapter, then stay tuned. I think you'll enjoy it.


	9. Night Drinking and Lamp Breaking

A/N: This chapter has less to do with Steve's coping mechanism and more to do with how much he needs Danny, and what dire straits Danny has to go to for Steve to see it.

Further Note: Serious business, deep as they come, hand to my heart thanks go out to those of you who stuck with me and took the time to let me know that you cared about this story and the work I put to it: Onthnis, Qweb, simplyn2deep, Gone2Far, ackberlynn, Ryhn, TMVH50, francis2, tanya13, jodiesto, janie m, shirik, rewob 17, Synbou, Five-O Fan, Lady Ailith, DestinChild, TeamCarlisleWhitlock, Katherine and lynnrxgal. I can't tell you what each of your support has meant to me, but I can tell you that this story would barely be half what it is without you.

Warning for slash as discussed. Rated T for safety.

* * *

><p>As it happened, Steve's worries were completely baseless. As he came through the doorway and entered his kitchen, he saw Danny's face illuminated by the small light that lit his refrigerator. Without looking up, Danny tossed Steve a beer. "Can't sleep?" Danny asked him, digging through the fridge.<p>

"Yeah, and unless that was a pack of stray dogs running through the living room for the last three hours, I'm going to guess you can't either."

Danny rolled his eyes into the fridge. "Why is it all you ever have in here are eggs and beer?"

"I only ever eat breakfast at the house."

Danny finally pulled his head out of the fridge, giving Steve his patented "there is too much wrong with you, I don't know where to start" look. "We're going to the store tomorrow before I pick up Grace. We're buying you food, real food."

Steve laughed, shaking his head a little, then the two stood, looking at each other across the kitchen. "Did you ever—," the two started in chorus, then both fell silent.

Steve looked at Danny, and Danny looked at Steve. Both waited for the other to be the first to speak.

Danny was the first to take the leap. "Did you ever break a lamp?"

"What?" Clearly, this was not what Steve had been expecting.

"You know, playing baseball or, I don't know, shadow boxing in the house. You're trying to be careful because you know you're doing something you shouldn't, but you hit the lamp just a little too hard and it shatters into a million pieces. I mean, sure, you can stuff your pillow case full of porcelain, but you just know your mom knew what happened the second she got home, and you feel guilty for trying to hide it, but you're not sure how she would react, and the last thing you want to do is upset her, even though everybody already knows exactly what's going on anyway, and you know you're not fooling anybody. You're still just scared to come forward. Maybe you're afraid of being judged, or maybe you're worried what she'll do once you really tell her. Or maybe, maybe you're scared of what fessing up could lead to, you know?"

Steve looked at him for a moment, eyes serious. "All our lamps were made of plastic so they couldn't be used as weapons during a home invasion."

Danny sighed. "Yeah, of course they were."

Steve thought he knew what Danny had been trying to say, but he took the safe route. "If I check under the couch, am I going to find shards of lamp?"

Danny rubbed his face. "No, you big idiot, I'm trying to tell you—."

"Wait," Steve said, smiling. "Let me try." Steve struggled, trying to find the right words. "Did you ever lose something, something you thought you'd always have, something you tried so hard not to think you needed until it was gone, and then all of a sudden, it's like you don't know how to live, how to start your day, what to do, without this thing that's just gone now?"

Danny was silent a moment, eyebrows raised in appraisal. "Wow. Can I just say…wow, you're just awful at this."

"Okay, then, let me try it my way. I need you. You're too important for me to keep pretending I don't. You've been the best thing to happen to me since…. I don't even know how to finish that sentence. I actually thought I had lost you there for a second, and it made me realize…." He had been so close, but he couldn't finish the thought.

Danny grabbed the front of Steve's T-shirt, dragging Steve down to eye level. "There are two things in this world that give me any kind of hope anymore. When I see Grace, I get to think that I did something right in my life. And when I see you, I get to hope that there might still be somebody in the world stupid enough to love me. I'm tired of pretending that I don't want you."

Steve grabbed Danny, his hands holding the back of his head, and closed the distance between them. The kiss was deep and frenzied. Steve responded to the need in Danny's eyes, and all Danny could think was that Steve might actually have wanted this for as long as he had. _We're idiots_, he thought fondly.

The next thing Danny was aware of was Steve breaking away from him. At first this frustrated him, until he looked over to see Steve pulling off the T-shirt he'd been wearing. Danny took a little too much pleasure from his first opportunity to openly stare at Steve's muscled form. It seemed half the cases they worked saw a chance for Steve to take his shirt off, and every time, Danny had made himself complain or nag or argue about it, when all he'd ever wanted was to grab Steve and throw him in the back of the Camaro for an hour. Speaking of…. "So," Danny gulped, running his hand down Steve's chest and stopping to tug playfully at the waistband of his thin, cotton pants. "You want to take this upstairs?"

Danny pretended he didn't see the look Steve shot the kitchen table. He really was an animal. But Steve shook it off and looked again at Danny. "Yeah, upstairs would be better."

Danny gave him a look of mock disapproval. "I eat there, Steven," he admonished.

"I ever tell you how much I love it when you call me Steven?" He grabbed Danny by the collar, practically dragging him out of the kitchen.

* * *

><p>The stairs turned out to be more complicated than Danny had anticipated, made all the worse by his reluctance to let Steve get more than a few inches away from him. Had there been any pictures, hangings or knick knacks decorating the wall, they would all have been knocked to the floor as Danny and Steve fought for dominance, each backing the other against the walls of the narrow stairwell time and again.<p>

When they finally reached the door to Steve's bedroom, Danny realized he was somehow standing in his boxers, while Steve had managed to keep his pajama pants maddeningly secure. _Well, that's just not fair_, Danny thought, looking up at Steve's cocky grin through narrowed eyes. Taking a page from Steve's own playbook, Danny tackled Steve, forcing him back against the bed and dragging the pajamas down around his ankles.

As he slowly worked his way back up to Steve's face, Danny thought of all the times he'd dreamed of being right where he was now, thinking idly that if this were another of those dreams, he honestly hoped he would never wake up.

"I love you, Danny." The words shocked Danny out of the thoughts of how this was better than any dream and back to reality. Steve was lying back with a smile on his face. "I think I've known for a long time now, but…I never…I don't…."

Danny smiled. "Have you ever said that to someone?"

"Yes," Steve said defensively. "I've just never really…meant it, I guess. I mean, I thought I did; I'm not like that. But if this is what it feels like…well, nothing else has ever been even close."

Danny smiled and kissed Steve again, deep and slow, finding just the right spot on the curve of Steve's hips to put his hands. He could feel how much Steve was enjoying it. Then he broke away and looked Steve in the eye. "I love you, too, Steve. I loved you the first time I took a bullet for you. I loved you when you were being so incredibly stupid and reckless. I loved you when I realized my body was trying to fight you off like a bad organ, and I loved you more when you won. I don't think I realized it until all the crap we went through with Jameson, but I think I've loved you almost since the moment we met."

That night, all the tension, all the anger, all the fear was drained away as the two found the comfort they never dared hope they could have inside one another's arms. Tomorrow, they would worry about consequences and implications, tomorrow they would worry about what the team would think, not, Danny was sure, that even one of them hadn't already known what was going on (_except for maybe Lori, but she doesn't count yet_). Tomorrow they would worry about all the tomorrows to come. For tonight, for once, they had the moments, the joy, the now, and it was enough.

* * *

><p>As they lay in Steve's bed, Danny with his head against Steve's chest, Steve leaning back against his headboard, Danny found he had a new favorite sound to block out the ocean. The sound of Steve's heart thundering away in his ear was better than any TV or stupid white noise machine. It sounded like safety, a feeling Danny needed more than he could admit.<p>

"I was the only one who knew you were in trouble."

The admission was shocking, both because of the silence it had broken and the message it conveyed. Steve had told him this before, but there had been so many more important things to think about then, and Danny decided his brain hadn't really absorbed the message. "Huh. I mean, I guess I expected that from Chin, but Kono thought I'd just up and leave like that?" Danny tried to keep the hurt off his face.

"Whoa, how come Chin gets a pass?" Steve sat further up, looking down at Danny.

Danny tried to look up to meet Steve's eye without moving his ear. "Oh, come on, you're telling me you don't think he has trust issues? After what happened with the last people he worked with, the people he trusted with his life, you think he just walks into a situation like this and starts off with blind in faith everybody around him? I know we've been through a lot, but I'd have thought I left, too, if I were him. Kono I expected more from."

"What about Lori?"

"I keep telling you, babe, she doesn't qualify yet." There was a silence as Steve nodded in begrudging agreement. Danny rolled onto his side, commanding Steve's attention. "Thanks for keeping the faith." The laughter was gone from his eyes, replaced by a sobering sincerity. "If it weren't for you, I…I don't…." Danny stopped, choking on the words.

Steve snaked an arm around Danny's waist, pulling him close. One hand moved in slow, lazy circles on Danny's back while the other was cupped around his face. "Don't think about it. I've got you now, and that's all that matters."

They stayed like that for a long time, until both finally, thankfully, peacefully drifted to sleep.

* * *

><p>In the morning, with the dawn light filtering in through the bedroom window, Steve looked over at Danny. "So how do we keep this from happening again?"<p>

"You kidding me? I want that to happen as often as possible."

"Not that. The email. Everybody thought I was crazy for thinking you didn't send it, and for a second there, we all thought you were…."

"Well," Danny interrupted, never, ever wanting to hear the end of that thought, "just a thought here, you could all wise up and accept the fact that you're stuck with me, and I'm never leaving."

Steve grinned up at the ceiling, clearly not listening. "I think we need a code."

Danny frowned up at his favorite idiot from his place leaned against Steve's shoulder. "Or we could maybe agree to _walk_ the ten feet we're ever separated by and cut out emails entirely. Our offices are so close, I think we could yell and it would be good enough. Just thinking out loud here."

Steve finally looked down at Danny, the grin still plastered across his face. "How about you start signing all your emails 'Danno'?"

"How about you bite me?"

* * *

><p>And that, really and truly, is that.<p>

Thanks go out to everybody. Just everybody.


End file.
